


Metamorphosis

by Aglarien



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 06:49:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12906447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aglarien/pseuds/Aglarien
Summary: A series of short stories, in no particular order, of Elrond and Erestor raising Estel and nurturing him into Aragorn.





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Not mine. The great Master Tolkien’s estate owns everything. I promise to return his elves when I’m done playing with them.  
Beta: Inwë Sáralondë. All remaining mistakes are mine.  
Summary: Estel seeks out Erestor when he learns who he is.

 

“Master Erestor?”

Erestor looked up from his writing, smiled, and laid his quill down. He had been expecting this visitor. “Estel,” the counselor said softly. “Come and sit with me at the window and we will talk.” Rising, he led the young man to the window seat where they could look out over the valley, and sat beside him. For all the courage and bravery the rest of the world would see, Erestor knew that Estel would seek him out for comfort and reassurance.

“Master Elrond, he……my name is Aragorn.” 

Erestor nodded. “Yes.” 

Where was the infant he had held in his arms and rocked to sleep when no one else could calm him?

“The Dúnedain Rangers….he said I am their chieftain.”

“Yes,” Erestor said. “You are their chieftain.” 

Where was the toddler he had carried on his shoulders as they ran laughing through the trees on a summer’s morn?

“Will they accept me? I am still so young, and they do not know me.”

“They will accept you, Estel. You are the son of Arathorn, and their kin,” Erestor answered. “Elladan and Elrohir will guide you, and you will go with them when they ride with the Dúnedain.” 

Where was the little boy who had run to him to proudly show off his first clumsily drawn picture? The portrait of Estel’s rather lumpish looking foster brothers had hung on the wall beside Erestor’s desk for many months.

The young man sat and looked out of the window, seemingly watching the birds flittering in the trees. “He said he was my kin too – that his brother was my ancestor,” he finally whispered.

“Yes,” Erestor said softly. “You are kin to Man and Elf, and he loves you as a son.” 

Where was the boy he had painstakingly trained in language and arts, who had proudly shown off his first unpracticed written page? That too had hung on the wall by Erestor’s desk for many months.

“And I love him as a father,” the young man said, “just as I love you.”

“Estel,” Erestor whispered, drawing the young man into an embrace. “You are the child of my heart, and I love you as my own. You have grown so strong. I am so proud of you, and I am proud of the goodness and justice within you.” 

Where was the adolescent he had painstakingly trained in the art of diplomacy and negotiation?

“Why did Elrond name me Estel? He said it was to protect me from those who would do me harm, and that I understand, but why Estel?”

“Because you are our hope, Estel,” Erestor answered. “In you, one day, will rest the fate of Middle-earth, and you will not fail.”

“How will I know what to do, Erestor?”

“You will know because of what you have learned here and what you will learn with the Dúnedain. You will know because Elrond and I and the rest of your family will still be here to advise you. And you will know because of who and what you are.” Erestor sat up and held the young man at arm’s length, his hands on Estel’s shoulders. Looking into Estel’s sparkling grey eyes, he smiled. 

The infant, the toddler, the boy, the adolescent had all vanished. In their place was a man: tall and strong, proud and wise. Yes, he was their hope, and he would not fail.

“Aragorn,” Erestor said proudly. “Your name is Aragorn.”

~the end

Estel: Hope (Sindarin)


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Breaking the Chrysalis  
Beta: Lady Mirfain  
Summary: Elrond and Erestor reminisce.  
A/N and warning: Complete disregard for canon. Yes, Gilraen should have been there. I sent her home to the Dúnedain as soon as she took Aragorn to Imladris. 

 

Elrond stood in the doorway, watching Erestor for long moments. The counselor sat on the window seat, a soft smile on his face, watching Estel as the young man walked off through the trees. Finally, the Elf-lord asked quietly, “What are you thinking of?”

Erestor looked up and his face brightened. “Estel. Do you remember the day Elladan and Elrohir brought him here? He was barely two years old.”

“I remember,” Elrond said. “I took him from Elladan and held him in my arms. The last in the line descended from my brother. And then he started screaming. Healthy lungs.” 

Erestor chuckled. “And I took him from you and he stopped, and then he started playing with my hair and smiling at me. I think he captured my heart at that very moment with his smile.” 

“I think he loved you the moment he saw you,” Elrond said. “It took him a while for me.”

Erestor laughed. “All of a day. When he had nightmares or was scared, who did he run to? You.” 

Elrond smirked. “Well, yes, there was that. Do you remember that first night when he woke? You picked him up and held him, but then he held his chubby little arms out to me. That was the moment when he captured ‘my’ heart.”

Erestor watched Estel disappear into the trees. “He will be much like you,” he mused. “And he will be a wise and good king, just as Elros was. The line of your twin has come full-circle with Estel. For hundreds of years you have fostered descendents of Elros here in Imladris, but Estel….Estel is the one. It is he who will unite Middle-earth. The time of the Elves will be over, and the time of Man will begin.”

Elrond nodded. “This, you and I have known since he came to us. Tonight I will deliver into his keeping the shards of Narsil: no other has had them since the days of Isildur.”

“He is the one,” Erestor agreed. “But my heart aches that he must leave us for a time.”

Elrond crossed the room and sat opposite Erestor on the window seat. He leaned against the wall, raised his legs to stretch them out along the seat, and opened his arms for Erestor to move into them. “As does mine,” he said softly. “But we will see him often, and the end is still many years away.”

Erestor sighed as he moved between Elrond’s legs and felt strong arms close around him. He rested his back against Elrond’s chest, his head under the Elf-lord’s chin. Stalwart, powerful, strong, and unshakable: that was Elrond, and even little Estel had sensed it in his need. Might, tempered with kindness, brought to fullness with love for all of Eru’s creations. “I do not want to think of the end yet,” Erestor whispered.

“Then we shall not,” Elrond replied, bending his head to place a soft kiss on Erestor’s temple. “Do you remember the day he wanted to help you write? He crawled up onto your lap as you sat at your desk. He stood on your legs with his little hands holding onto the desk, staring at the paper, fascinated. When you put a quill into his tiny fingers and helped him to write, he squealed with delight.”

“I remember. I could hardly keep him away from my desk after.”

“Ada? Erestor?” Two tall, strong figures stood in the doorway, one the mirror of the other. “Forgive the intrusion, but we were looking for Estel,” Elladan said.

“He is walking among the trees,” Elrond replied, resting his chin on Erestor’s head. “I told him who he is this morning.”

The twins nodded. “Perhaps he will meet Arwen then. She has gone walking there as well. She is happy to be home, but misses the trees of Lórien, I think.” Elrohir said.

“Will you two promise me something?” Erestor asked Elrond’s sons.

“Of course,” Elladan said as he and his brother moved further into the room.

“Promise me you will look out for him. Teach him all you can,” Erestor said. 

“My sons, Estel is the hope of Middle-earth. You know he is the one the prophecies speak of. You must help prepare him for his tasks ahead,” Elrond added.

The twins nodded solemnly. “You have our word. We will watch over him and teach him all we know. He will be ready when the time comes,” Elladan said.

After the twins had taken their leave, Erestor relaxed back into Elrond’s arms. “Now is the time for them to take our place as his teachers. Estel will fare well under their tutelage.” 

Elrond nodded. “Tonight we celebrate his coming of age and place Narsil into his hands. Tomorrow morning they will leave for the wilds. But right now, do you think there might be time for me to take my husband to the bedroom and have my way with him?”

“I think that might be arranged,” Erestor said. Grinning, he leaned up and snatched a kiss from his beloved mate’s lips.

~the end


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Spreading Wings  
Beta: Phyncke  
Warning: Unabashed little human cuteness.  
Summary: Drawing lessons.

 

Erestor walked into his office sipping his tea of tea, and stopped when he saw the two travel-worn half-elves standing next to his desk and chuckling at the drawing tacked to his wall.

“You have returned!” he exclaimed, setting his cup of tea on the desk and pulling Elrond’s two sons into his arms. “Your father will be so happy to see you back once again and in one piece.”

“It is good to be home again, Erestor,” Elladan said, returning the counselor’s embrace. "We came here first, thinking to find Ada in your office.”

“And got distracted with the little one’s art,” Elrohir added, kissing the cheek of his father’s mate.

“Your father has gone to the smithy to see about having more railing added to the upper balconies so Estel does not fall from them,” Erestor said. “The young one is more than adventurous and has inherited the spirit of his forefathers.”

“The drawing is a fine likeness of you and Ada,” Elladan snickered. “You look a bit pudgy, but still a fine likeness.” The elder of the twins dissolved into laughter.

“Oh, it is not of us,” Erestor replied with a smirk. “It is of two others that Estel loves dearly. See? There are no knots in this one’s hair, and do you not see the resemblance between the two?”

The twins stared at the drawing. “Nay,” Elladan said.

“Yea,” replied Erestor.

“Brother,” Elrohir said, twisting his head to look at the drawing from a different angle, “why do we look lumpy?”

Elladan merely groaned. 

“I think they are fine likenesses,” Erestor said. “Very fine indeed. Estel is obviously a gifted artist."

“I think we have just been insulted,” Elladan said, grabbing his traveling pack. “Come, brother. Let us go and report to Ada before we deal with our little brother.”

The two left the room to the music of Erestor’s laughter.

~~~~~*~~~~~

Estel bounced and squealed with laughter as he rode down the halls on his oldest brother’s shoulders, strong hands holding his chubby little legs firmly. One set of small fingers held tightly onto ebon hair, and the other firmly clenched a piece of parchment. Elrohir walked behind, ready to grab for the toddler should his antics cause him to teeter. 

Erestor sat perched atop his husband’s desk, sharing the amusing story of the twin’s reaction to the drawing, while Elrond rubbed his hands over the counselor’s exquisitely long thighs. Hearing a knock at the door, they drew slightly apart, but did not move, as the sound of Estel’s laughter had given away the arrival of the twins and their foster-brother.

“Enter!” Elrond called.

As the door opened, Estel waved the parchment and let go of Elladan’s hair, tottering backward to be caught by Elrohir. “Ada Elwond! Ada Elwond! I dwew a pichow of you and Ada Ewestow!” he cried. 

Erestor rose with a smile and took Estel from the twins, cuddling him and placing a loud kiss on his cheek. “Pic-ture,” he carefully enunciated. 

“Pichow! Hewe, Ada Ewestow, look!” Estel said triumphantly, handing the picture to Erestor. “’Woh and ‘Dan helped me!” 

Erestor shifted Estel to one arm and took the picture as he walked back to Elrond’s desk. “Oh, my, what a lovely picture, Estel!” Erestor exclaimed, making a concerted effort to hold back his laughter as he praised the drawing and handed it to Elrond. There in all their thickset, cumbrous glory were Estel’s two foster-fathers, one of them with hair carefully arranged in elaborate knots, the other with dark hair flowing free. 

Elrond bit his lips to keep from howling out his laughter, and his eyes twinkled merrily. “What a beautiful picture, Estel!” the Elf-lord exclaimed. “Since Ada Erestor already has a drawing of Elladan and Elrohir in his office, may I hang this one here?”

Estel nodded his head vigorously. “You weally like it, Ada Elwond?” he asked.

“I really like it very much, little one,” Elrond answered, taking the child from Erestor. “And I love you very much.” He kissed Estel’s cheek and said, “Now come and help me hang it on my wall.”

~the end.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Taking Flight  
Summary: Aragorn goes into the wild. 

Aragorn slowly entered the room where his foster-fathers sat working. “I have come to take my leave of you,” he said quietly. 

Elrond and Erestor rose and the young man moved and stood before them. 

“My son, you must not use your real name,” Elrond said firmly. “It is not yet time for you to reveal yourself to the enemy.” 

“When will that time be, Master Elrond?” Aragorn asked. 

“Not for many long years,” Elrond replied, “and many years of trial lay before you. You are not yet ready to face the enemy.” 

“What name shall you choose, Estel?” Erestor asked softly. “Choose it now so when we hear of your great deeds we will know it is you.” 

“The name Estel I reserve for you…for my family,” Aragorn said thoughtfully. “Will you choose a name for me…Ada Erestor?” He smiled at the elf he knew and loved as one of his fathers. 

Erestor nodded once, and placing his hands on the young man’s shoulders, searched his eyes. Grey eyes twinkled down at him, and in their depths Erestor saw a kindling of the light of the Eldar that still lived on in the Man: Aragorn, Lord of the Dúnedain. “Thorongil,” he said firmly. “I name you Thorongil.” 

“Star Eagle?” Aragorn asked. 

Erestor shook his head. “Say instead, Bright Eagle, for a spark of the Eldar lives on in you, and you will do mighty deeds.” 

~~~*~~~  
_And Aragorn took leave lovingly of Elrond…….and said farewell…… to the house of Elrond…...and he went into the wild. For nearly thirty years he laboured in the cause against Sauron; and he became a friend of Gandalf the Wise, from whom he gained much wisdom…... For he went in many guises and won renown under many names......_

_Thus he became at last the most hardy of living Men, skilled in their crafts and lore, and was yet more than they; for he was elven-wise, and there was a light in his eyes that when they were kindled few could endure._

_J.R.R. Tolkien. The Return of the King, appendix A_


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Gifts  
Summary: A child is lost…and found. 

 

“How could his nurse have left him alone,” Erestor said, frustrated and sick with worry.

“She just turned her back for an instant to warm his milk, and he was gone, Erestor,” Elrond replied, just as desperately worried as his mate. “You know how fast he can disappear.”

Along with a group of servants and scribes, the Elves had searched the house from top to bottom, calling as they went and looking in every place a very small boy could be sleeping or hurt, but no sign of the human child was to be found. It was not like Estel to hide from them, and neither Elrond nor Erestor believed that their foster son would do such a thing. Rounding a corner, they met up with Elrond’s sons.

“Nothing, Ada,” Elladan said. “You?”

Elrond shook his head in dismay, his anxiousness doubling and making it hard to breathe. “Perhaps Glorfindel and Melpomaen will have found him,” he whispered. The Captain of Imladris and his Chief Scribe husband had taken command of the search of the grounds, enlisting the help of everyone from stable hands to guards.

Moments later, they were joined by Glorfindel and his mate. “There is no trace of him,” Melpomaen said dejectedly. “We have searched the grounds of the house and the outbuildings.” 

“The falling snow is rapidly hiding any tracks,” Glorfindel added.

“He has to have gone outside somewhere,” Erestor said, nearly frantic by now and fighting to control his distress. It would do Estel no good if they lost their wits. 

Glorfindel nodded, and saw the pain and growing alarm in Estel’s foster fathers’ eyes. “Right. Get warm cloaks and boots for yourselves. Erestor, bring a blanket for Estel for when we find him. I will go to the kitchens and get a couple flasks of warmed, sweet milk for him. He will need something to warm him. Mel, you run to the stables and tell them to ready the horses. We will need to take lanterns with us – it will be dark soon. We meet in five minutes in the stables.”

The six Elves were joined by many others who wished to aid in the search, and small parties of Elves left in all directions into the surrounding woods and down to the river, all calling out Estel’s name as they went.

~~~*~~~

Estel knew he was lost. He had tried to catch the little rabbit he saw from his balcony, worried that the tiny creature would be cold in the snow, but the animal had bounded away from him into the woods. He had called and called for his fathers and brothers, but no one answered. He was cold and wet, and it had gotten dark awfully fast. The snow kept falling and he got colder and colder as he wandered through the trees, crying. The shadows cast by the trees were menacing, and he was afraid. Miserable and whimpering, he finally happened across an old, inviting tree. The trunk was hollow, and so he crawled inside, shivering. He was out of the snow, but he was still wet and so very cold and tired. Huddling into the dried leaves that covered the floor of the hollow, teeth chattering in fright and cold, he sobbed out his misery and fell into an uneasy sleep.

~~~*~~~

“We have to find him!” Erestor nearly screamed in his panic. “It has been over two hours and we have been out here nearly an hour! How far could one little child have gone in this weather!” The snow continued to fall around them, thankfully not hard, but the temperature continued to drop and the wind picked up. “He is not dressed warmly enough. He will freeze.” Erestor wiped a sleeve over his eyes, blinking furiously at the tears that blurred his vision.

“Erestor is right,” Elrond said. “We have to find him, and find him fast. I cannot bear to think…I cannot lose him.” His voice cracked on a sob. “We have to find him. My son…my little son…”

Elladan moved his horse close to his father’s and laid a hand on Elrond’s shoulder. “We will find him, Ada,” he said firmly. “Can you not sense him?”

“I have tried,” Elrond said dejectedly. “Nothing…I can sense nothing. I feel so helpless,” he whispered. “What good are my gifts if I cannot even feel his light…my own kin.”

“Maybe,” Elrohir said, almost to himself. Shaking his head, he continued, “This is not working. We will never find him like this. Maybe if all of us together…Glorfindel and Mel too…maybe we could…we have to try, Ada.”

“It is a good idea, Elrond,” Glorfindel said. “We have to try. This is not working. We’re not finding him this way and neither are any of the others.”

“I have no special gifts as the rest of you have,” Melpomaen said. “I do not want to hinder you. You have to try, but do it quickly. Erestor is right. Time is running out and he will freeze. Hurry.”

Glorfindel looked at his mate and smiled gently, “Of course you do, Mel. You are an Elf – you do not know what gifts you have until you use them. You love Estel as we all do. Come and join us.” He held out his hand to Melpomaen. He did not realize that his husband thought so little of his inherent, natural gifts, but he would deal with that later.

Elrond nodded. The Elves, still astride their horses, moved close together; each taking the hand of the Elf on either side of him. Their eyes closing, all turned their thoughts to the small, lost human.

Anyone passing would have seen a small group of elves, all focused on a single thought, each of them seeming to burn with an ethereal glow. One by one, each Elf began to speak quietly.

“He is cold…very cold and wet.” 

“He cries and calls out for me.” 

“There is no snow. He clothing is wet, but there is no snow.”

“He is frightened. The trees scare him, and so he hides.”

“Leaves…there are dead and dried leaves.”

“His body shivers, fighting to warm itself.”

“It is dark….damp.”

“He sleeps fitfully in his shelter.”

“Leaves…he is lying on the dried leaves.”

“It is dark….small…leaves.”

Suddenly Melpomaen opened his eyes and exclaimed, “I know where he is!” Pulling his hands free, he quickly moved his horse out of the circle. “Hurry! This way!”

The scribe led the way though the woods, seeing the child in his mind. He knew the tree – he knew it well. It was old, and he had played in it himself as a child. And best of all, they were close. As the tree came into sight, he pointed. “There!” he exclaimed. “He is in the hollowed out trunk of that tree – I know it!”

Elrond, Erestor and the twins flew off their horses to the ground.

Elrohir held up one of the lit lanterns as Elrond reached into the dark trunk and lifted the child out to place him in Erestor’s arms. “He is nearly blue,” the Elf-lord said, rapidly removing Estel’s wet clothing and shoes, and wrapping him in the blanket they had brought. 

Elladan brought the flask of warm milk as Erestor placed the shivering child inside of his cloak and held him next to his chest, desperately trying to warm him. 

“Estel, my son, you are safe now,” Elrond said, rubbing the child’s face and hands as Erestor held him close.

“Ada,” Estel whimpered, “cold.”

Erestor held the child with one hand, and with the other, removed his heavy fur-lined cloak. Wrapping Estel in it, Erestor held the little one in his arms once more, uncaring about the cold snow that now covered his head and clothing. With one hand inside the cloak, he massaged the child’s frozen feet as Elrond continued to rub life into cold little hands. 

“I am so proud of you,” Glorfindel whispered, wrapping an arm around his husband and placing a kiss on the shorter Elf’s brow. “So very proud.” Melpomaen smiled and leaned into Glorfindel’s warmth.

Elrohir lit one of Mithrandir’s fireworks he carried, sending a flare of bright light high up into the night sky and signaling to the other searchers that Estel had been found. When the child’s teeth had stopped chattering, he sleepily drank some of the warm milk and nodded off in Erestor’s arms, feeling warm and secure once more. His ada was holding him and all was right again in his world.

The Elves rode back to the house, Estel in Erestor’s arms and Erestor seated in front of Elrond, the Elf-lord’s great cloak covering them all. 

~~~*~~~

When they arrived back at the house, a warm bath was hurriedly prepared for Estel and Elrond examined him for any sign of frostbite. Miraculously, there were none, the bed of leaves in the tree having sufficiently protected him from the worst of the cold. Once Estel was clean and warm, Erestor sat in front of the fire in their rooms holding his foster son as the little one finished his cake and warm milk.

“You scared your Ada Elrond, your brothers, and me very much, Estel,” Erestor said softly, brushing the child’s still damp hair with his fingers. “Everyone was afraid for you and looking for you, and poor Glaneth was in tears thinking it was all her fault because she was with you.”

“I sowwy, Ada Ewestow,” the child said.

“Whatever made you run off like that, my son?” Elrond asked, dropping down to the floor to sit beside his husband and Estel.

“Der was a bunny an’ it was snowing and I din want him to be cowd, Ada,” Estel said, stuffing the last of his cake into his mouth.

“The bunnies have fur to keep them warm, little one,” Erestor said. “He would not have been cold. Promise me you will never run off like that again?”

“I prowmise, Ada,” Estel said, reaching up to touch Erestor’s face with his sticky fingers. “Wuve you, Ada.”

“I love you too, my little one,” Erestor said, melting as he always did at the child’s sweetness, and bending down to kiss a sticky cheek. “Time for a little boy I know to be in bed. Tomorrow is the eve of Yule and a big day.”

“And prewsents!” Estel exclaimed, clapping his hands. 

Elrond chuckled and winked at Erestor. “And presents,” he said, lifting Estel from his husband’s lap.

~~~*~~~

Melpomaen snuggled into his husband’s warmth as they lay curled in their bed. “I love you,” he whispered.

“And I love you, dear one, so very much,” Glorfindel answered, pulling his beloved mate closer. “I was so proud of you today. Without you with us, we would not have found Estel when we did. You have many gifts within you that you do not yet know of, my heart.”

“I did not know I could do that. I am no one special, Glorfindel. Not like you and Elrond and the others. I am just a normal Elf.”

“All Elves are special, Mel,” Glorfindel said softly. “Yes, there are some who have stronger gifts of one kind or another, like Elrond’s gifts of healing and foresight, but we all have abilities and gifts that are unique to our kind.”

“Do you know what my very special, most unique gift is?” Melpomaen asked, looking up at his golden mate with a smile.

“What?”

“You.”

Glorfindel chuckled and captured the lips he loved in a passionate kiss.

~~~*~~~

Erestor stood at the open balcony doors watching the snow fall, a soft smile on his face. His mate moved soundlessly, but Erestor knew when Elrond approached even before strong arms wrapped around him from behind.

“What makes you smile, beloved? What are you thinking of?” Elrond asked.

Erestor leaned back against his husband’s chest. “You. Estel. The twins. This family we have. How very much I love you all and how very happy I am because of you,” he said. “I love you so much, Elrond. So very much.”

“As I love you, Erestor,” Elrond whispered. “You are my very heart and soul…my most precious gift.”

A bright star flickered in the night sky.

“Mid of night has passed, and it is the Eve of Yule. Happy Yule, my love,” Erestor whispered. “Happy Yule.”

The End.


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Coming Home  
Summary: Aragorn comes home. 

 

Aragorn stayed in the healing hall, talking softly with Elrond and Gandalf as the master healer worked on the hobbit, and helping where he could. In the days since he had found the hobbits he had grown inordinately fond of them, especially Frodo, and he was strangely reluctant to leave the Halfling, even to Elrond’s care. 

Erestor stood in the doorway and watched his foster son. Aragorn was scruffy, unshaven, and none too clean, but more importantly, he looked exhausted. The elf could only imagine what the Ranger had gone through to bring the hobbit safely to Imladris with his burden. It had probably been days, if not weeks, since he had been able to sleep more than a few hours, and he looked thinner than the last time he had visited his old home. Even so, Erestor could see that Aragorn was concerned for the hobbit and was hesitant to leave him. “Estel,” he said softly, “your part in this stage of the hobbit’s journey is now ended, and Elrond’s begins. Come with me.”

Elrond looked up from his work and smiled softly at Erestor, then said to Aragorn, “Go with Erestor, my son.”

Aragorn sighed and placed his hand on Frodo’s brow for a moment. He would not tell Elrond to take care of the hobbit for him, for he knew that Frodo was in the best of care. Nodding, he followed Erestor out of the room. 

Erestor wrapped his arm around the Ranger’s waist and led the man towards Aragorn’s old rooms. 

“I need to check on the other hobbits, Erestor,” the Ranger said.

“I have already done so,” Erestor replied. “Lindir has them well in hand, and they even stopped protesting about being made to leave Frodo once food and beds were offered. I believe there was even a mention of ale.”

“The way to a hobbit’s heart,” Aragorn chuckled tiredly. “I did not see Glorfindel leave. I will thank him more fully later. I do not know how I would have managed getting the hobbits here without him.”

“Melpomaen came and bore him away for his own food and rest,” Erestor said as he opened the door to the Ranger’s rooms. Erestor’s assistant had been nearly frantic with worry for his mate while Glorfindel was out searching for Frodo, knowing that the Nine were abroad. The counselor went at once to the bathroom, rolling up the sleeves of his robe as he walked, and began to draw a bath.

Aragorn stopped and watched the lithe elf bend over the tub, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and was carried back to a day when a small, laughing, muddy boy was unceremoniously dumped into the tub and scrubbed clean. 

“Why do you stand there, child?” Erestor said. “Come, off with those filthy clothes and into the tub.”

Aragorn smiled. Nearly eighty-eight years of age, he would be considered ancient in the world of men, but to Erestor he would always be a child. “I have missed you, Ada Erestor,” he said softly, and pulled the elf closer to plant a gentle kiss to the top of the counselor’s head. 

“I have missed you too, my son,” Erestor said, genuinely pleased and touched to hear the Ranger call him Ada once again. He gave Aragorn a quick hug, and then said, “Now off with those clothes and into the tub with you. I will find you something clean to wear.”

Aragorn removed his travel-stained clothes, tossing them in a corner, and sank into the hot water as Erestor left the room. After dunking his head, he reached for soap and began to wash.

Erestor returned to the bath to find Aragorn with his face and neck covered in soap lather and scraping a sharp blade down his cheek. “Hand me that,” he said quietly. “You are so tired you will probably cut yourself.”

“You are undoubtedly right,” Aragorn said, handing the knife to Erestor with a grin.

“Arwen is here,” Erestor said as he knelt and began to shave his foster son. “I do not want her to see you cut and bleeding.”

Aragorn’s grey eyes sparkled, but he held his head still. “The time has come, Ada Erestor,” Aragorn said when the elf has finished. “I feel it.”

“Yes,” Erestor replied. “The time you have prepared all of your life for is here. When the hobbit is well, Elrond will hold a council, and Elves, Men and Dwarves will decide how we will face this threat and deal with that which Frodo bears.”

“I fear failure, Ada,” Aragorn whispered. “Even Isildur had not the strength.”

“You will not fail, Estel,” Erestor said firmly. “You will not fail. I know it in my heart.”

~~~*~~~  
Erestor rose as Elrond wearily entered their rooms. “How fares the hobbit?” he asked. “Will the wound heal?”

Elrond shook his head, uncertain in his answer. “He is not yet out of danger, but I do not know why. Something about it troubles me. It is an evil wound. I have nearly exhausted myself attempting to heal him, and must rest before I try again. Where is Estel?”

“In his rooms, resting. Arwen watches over his sleep.” Erestor drew Elrond into an embrace and the Elf-lord rested his head on the shorter counselor’s shoulder for a moment. 

“I fear the time has come,” Elrond whispered.

“We do not yet know what role he will play, but he will not fail,” Erestor answered. “We must have hope. The time has come to reforge the sword, Elrond.”

The Elf-lord nodded. Cupping Erestor’s face in his hands, he said earnestly, “I love you, Erestor. I do not know what I would ever do without you. You are my strength, my heart and soul.” Leaning down, he captured his mate’s mouth in a fervent kiss.

When they were forced to part for lack of breath, Erestor gazed into Elrond’s sparkling eyes, his heart overflowing with love for his perfect husband. “I love you, Elrond,” he whispered. “So very much. There is not a day that passes that I do not sing my gratefulness to the heavens for your love.” Placing a tender kiss on Elrond’s lips, he said, “Come and rest now. I know you will return to Frodo before many hours have passed, and you must restore your strength. Have no fear, Elrond. You will heal him. I know it in my heart.” 

After helping Elrond remove his heavy robe, Erestor held his husband and watched over him as he slept until it was time for him to return to the hobbit. What Erestor said was true: he knew in his heart that neither Estel nor Elrond would fail.

And he was right.

~the end


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Sailing the Heavens  
Summary: Estel learns about Elrond’s parents 

 

Estel sat curled up on the sofa in Erestor’s office, his nose in a book, while the Chief Counselor worked at his desk.

Erestor looked up as the ten-year-old human child gasped loudly. “What is it, Estel?” he asked. 

“Ada Elrond’s mother is a bird, Ada Erestor! Listen to this: ‘For Ulmo bore Elwing out of the waves, and he gave her the likeness of a great white bird, and upon her breast there shone as a star the Silmaril, as she flew over the water to seek Eärendil her beloved.’”

“Keep reading, Estel,” Erestor said with a smile.

The child read for another minute. “Oh,” he said, dejectedly. “She’s not a bird. ‘…but in the morning with marveling eyes he beheld his wife in her own form beside him with her hair upon his face, and she slept.’”

Estel kept on reading, and every once in a while Erestor would glance over at him fondly, gazing upon the child he loved as a son. A few moments later a loud and long sigh was heard. “What is it, Estel,” Erestor asked, already knowing what the answer would be.

“Ada Elrond’s father is not a star either. The Valar made his ship Vingilot to sail in the heavens and it is the Silmaril on his brow that we see as the star.”

“Is that not what a star is, a light in the heavens?” Erestor asked. “Keep reading, Estel,” he said with a knowing smile.

“Oooooh,” the child breathed a few moments later. “Eärendil sails back to Valinor during the day and Elwing flies up with her wings to meet him, is that right Ada?”

“That is right, Estel. The sea birds of Valinor taught her to fly, for she was once one of them, and her wings are white and silver-grey. She flies to greet him as he nears Valinor and they are able to spend the days together before Earendil must take to the heavens in his ship again.”

"Is she like what the men call angels, Ada? Beings with wings? Messengers of the One?"

"Perhaps," Erestor replied. "Perhaps she is."

Estel went back to reading. “They call him Gil-Estel, the Star of High Hope!” he exclaimed suddenly. “I have his name!”

“That’s right, Estel,” Erestor said. “You and Eärendil are called by the same name.”

The child went back to reading, and after a while, he sighed long and loud again, a most unhappy sound.

“What?” Erestor asked with a smile.

Estel looked at the pages of the book he held and said, “I wish. . .can I tease Ada Elrond about his mother being a bird and his father being a star?”

Erestor’s eyebrows rose. “You most certainly may not! Now get back to your reading.”

Estel sighed and obediently resumed his reading. Long minutes passed, filled with only the sound of a page turning or a quill scratching on a piece of velum. Finally, Estel looked up. “Ada?”

“What is it now, my son?” Erestor answered patiently.

“Can I tease ‘Dan and ‘Roh about their Iauradar being a star and their Iaurnaneth being a bird?”

Erestor stifled a snort and covered his mouth with his hand. His eyes sparkled and his mind filled with all the pranks the twins had played on him over the years. “Yes, you most certainly may.” 

~the end

Iauradar: Grandfather  
Iaurnaneth: Grandmother


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Metamorphosis #8 - Changes  
Summary: Estel is growing up  
A/N: I decided to merge Glorfindel and Melpomaen from “Love Breaks the Chains” into this series because it fits so well. We’ll just ignore the fact that I mentioned Mel playing in a tree in Imladris when he was a child in one of the earlier stories in this series. Now don’t get the idea that Mel and Erestor are just hobbity little things when I say they are smaller. They may be shorter than Glorfindel and Elrond, who tower over them at well over 6’ – more like 6 and a half feet - but at 5’7” and 5’10”-ish, neither of my “small” elves are exactly I what consider small. 

 

Erestor stood at his office window and sighed. “I wish I knew what was bothering him, Elrond. You do not think he could be ill, do you?”

Elrond shook his head as he joined his mate at the window. “No, it is not possible, my love. Like the Elves, the Dúnedain do not suffer from illness. I too have seen his melancholy mood in the last weeks.” He watched his fourteen-year-old foster-son as he sat high above the ground in a tree, long legs swinging.

“He looks so sad,” Erestor said quietly. “His mind can hardly focus on his lessons these past few days. I just wish we knew what ails the child.”

“What ails whom?” Elladan asked as he and his twin entered the room and joined their father and stepfather at the window.

“Oh, Estel,” Elrohir said, seeing his young foster-brother in the tree. “You two are surely too long from your own youth if you do not know what his problem is,” he added with a smirk.

“Speak clearly if you know what is wrong with him, Elrohir,” Elrond said, raising an eyebrow at his son.

“Ada,” Elladan said softly, answering for his twin, “our little brother is growing up. His…body…is changing.”

“Oh, dear,” Erestor whispered. “I think the time has come to have a talk with him.”

“Would you like us to do it, Erestor?” Elrohir offered. “It might be easier for him – coming from us, I mean.”

“Elrond, are not your sons nearly three thousand years old? Surely too long removed from their youth,” Erestor said smugly. “Or have they grown younger while I was not looking?”

“I will speak with him,” Elrond said firmly. “I will talk to him as a healer, not as his father.”

“You might not have to, Ada,” Elladan said, pointing to a small elf who was crossing the lawn to Estel’s tree with his gaze fixed on the young Dúnadan. Hiking up his robe, the lithesome elf was up the tree in a moment, joining Estel on his branch, shorter legs swinging beside the youth’s long ones.

“Melpomaen,” Erestor said, nodding in approval. Although married to Glorfindel, Erestor’s assistant was well under four hundred years old. He was both empathetic and gentle, and did not yet fully appreciate his own worth because of his history. Captured by human slavers when he was just past his majority, Melpomaen had spent two hundred years in captivity before being rescued by Erestor and Glorfindel a mere hundred years past. Although he had been horribly mistreated while a slave, Melpomaen’s soul had remained full of goodness. The small elf had a loving heart, and Estel was dear to him.

The young Dúnadan and the elf sat in the tree in companionable silence for long moments before Melpomaen began speaking. The elves watching from the house could not hear the words, but they were not concerned. Estel remained sitting dejectedly, his head hanging down, but it was easy to see that he was listening to Melpomaen’s words when he tilted his head and peered up at the elf. 

An elf walking past the open office door was intrigued enough to halt his journey to the kitchens and inquire what the others were gazing so intently out of the window at. Upon hearing that it was Estel and Melpomaen, he entered the room, although it may have been the heavily laden and largely untouched tea tray on the desk that interested him more.

"Melpomaen told me he was going to talk to the lad," Glorfindel said, snatching a piece of buttered bread from the tray and shoving it into his mouth. "It is easy enough to see what is ailing him," he mumbled around chewing. "Hungry. Missed breakfast and luncheon. New recruits." A second piece of bread followed the first, which was followed by the cooling tea remaining in Elrond's cup. 

"Easy enough if one was looking and was not afraid of him growing up,” Erestor said with a sigh. “I should have noticed earlier.”

Glorfindel refilled Elrond’s cup with tea from the pot, grabbed a large piece of cake from the tray, and stood at the window with the others. “Is he not beautiful,” he whispered, looking at his lovely little husband up in the tree. Estel was now talking and gesturing with his hands, appearing to ask question after question, which Melpomaen calmly answered. “Remember the day we found him, Erestor? That was a day!”

“Ai, do not remind me! ‘Twas good our hearts were breaking for him or the stench would have been unbearable!” Erestor said

“It certainly did not stop you from running up to that platform without a care in the world. Those men were eyeing you for their next prize. I always thought you had more sense than that,” Glorfindel responded.

“And why should I have been worried? You were there and I knew as well as you did that our guards were hidden all around us!”

Elrond and his sons raised their eyes and sighed. The argument had gone on for a hundred years with no victor. “Should you not be seeing to your new guards, Glorfindel?” Elrond asked, eyeing the tea tray as the captain snatched another piece of cake and refilled his teacup once again.

“Left Maenion in charge,” Glorfindel answered before taking a big bite of the cake, referring to his second-in-command and Melpomaen’s warrior father. “Hungry.”

Elrond smiled. “Yes, I can see that.”

“They are coming!” Erestor exclaimed. Melpomaen had smothered the boy in a hug before they both dropped to the ground and headed back to the house. “All of you – out of here before he figures out that we have been watching him!”

Glorfindel picked up the tea tray to take it with him, oblivious to Elrond’s raised eyebrow as the Elf-lord watched his tea disappear, saying he would have the kitchens send a fresh one since he was still headed there for his meal.

Elladan and Elrohir hurried out of the room. As they walked down the hallway together, Elrohir whispered conspiratorially, “We are still going to talk to our little brother.”

“Of course we are,” Elladan whispered back. “Was there ever any doubt?”

~~~*~~~

Glorfindel stifled a sigh as his stomach rumbled again. It was the mid of night and Melpomaen was wrapped in his arms, his head resting on Glorfindel’s chest. He was loathe to waken his sweet little husband just because he was hungry again. After his afternoon meal, he had returned to the training grounds where he had stayed until late in the day, missing his supper even though Mel had brought him out a tray. Nearly all of it had gone into the stomachs of the new guards who had stayed after training to ply their famed commander with questions. 

Melpomaen stirred, hearing the loud and long rumble. Lilac-grey eyes slowly returned to awareness. “Hungry, love? I know you shared your supper with the new guards again.”

“I am sorry I woke you, dear one,” Glorfindel said, placing a gentle kiss on his mate’s soft lips. “Go back to sleep and I will just run to the kitchens and scavenge for whatever is left over.”

“Mmmm…no,” Melpomaen said sleepily. “I will go with you.”

“You do not have to, Mel. Stay and sleep,” Glorfindel answered, kissing his mate one more time.

“Keep that up and I won’t let you leave,” Melpomaen answered with a grin as he forced himself to rise from the bed. Reaching for their robes, he hurriedly donned his own and tossed Glorfindel’s on the bed. “Hurry while everyone is still asleep.” 

The two elves crept silently through the halls, arriving at the kitchens to find Erestor seated on Elrond’s lap, the two of them feeding each other strawberries and giggling like a pair of elflings.

Elrond looked up at his captain. His eyebrows were raised, but his eyes sparkled. “Hungry again?” 

“I hope we do not disturb you,” Glorfindel replied with a smile. “My grumbling stomach even awakened Mel.” He swiped two strawberries from the bowl on the table and popped them into his mouth.

Melpomaen pushed Glorfindel into a chair at the table with Elrond and Erestor, smiled at his friends in greeting, and moved through the kitchen gathering food for his husband. Bread, cheese, and a jar of honey were quickly placed on a tray, and a kettle of water for tea placed in the hearth over the always-burning fire to heat. Considering the events of the day, Melpomaen reckoned they might be sitting and talking for a while. After placing the food in front of Glorfindel, he joined the others at the table. 

“Will you share with us what happened with Estel today, my friend?” Erestor asked, making himself more comfortable on Elrond’s lap and pulling his robe closed a little more. “He came and spoke to me afterward, mostly about his studies. It was good to see him more lighthearted, but I did not wish to question him and make him uncomfortable.”

Melpomaen cut a piece of bread from the loaf and slathered it with honey as he spoke. “Estel is an intelligent lad, as we all know,” he said. “He knows the whys and wherefores of things, but was not really prepared for the changes he is going through.”

“We should have prepared him for this better,” Erestor told Elrond quietly. The Elf-lord nodded.

Melpomaen waved away Erestor’s words. “We are not used to humans maturing so quickly. The last time a group of Dúnedain visited, he heard the mother of one of the lads whispering to her son about going blind if he touched himself, or some such nonsense. So when …things…started happening to him, it made him feel like he was dirty.” 

“What did you say to him?” Elrond asked kindly.

“I told him it was just a silly old wife’s tale. I do not think he believed me until I explained that it was how the One made the males of both Elves and Men, and it was a natural thing, not something dirty,” Melpomaen answered. He took a bite of his bread and honey, and then said, “Dirty was how I lived for two hundred years before Erestor and Glorfindel found me, in the dirt and mud and muck. I asked him how he thought I managed all that time on my own and I had not gone blind. I told him that touching himself did not make him dirty and that all males did it at one time or another, even…” Here he paused to clear his throat, and then added in a whisper, “Lord Elrond.”

Elrond snorted, Glorfindel chortled, and Erestor broke out into roaring laughter. 

“I may have been known to indulge myself once or twice in my six thousand years,” Elrond said with a grin. “Go on, Mel. Finish your tale.”

“Well, he asked me some questions about things, like why certain things happen at certain times and how to control it, and I answered them as well as I could.” The small elf blushed. “And then I told him he must never share himself carelessly with anyone, for there is great joy to be had in saving yourself for the one you truly love.” He gazed at Glorfindel adoringly.

“There is indeed,” Erestor said, wrapping his arms around his mate and sighing contentedly. “That must be why he came to me after and asked me if I had had a lover before Elrond. I did not understand why he seemed so pleased when I told him no. Thank you, Mel. You did well with him.”

The smaller elf nodded his head, and then got up from the table to prepare the tea.

~~~*~~~  
It was an hour or so later when Glorfindel and Melpomaen were once more back in their warm bed. Mel was just drifting off to sleep when a low, melodic voice whispered in his ear.

“Mel? You were never dirty, you know.”

“I was filthy, and I smelled,” Melpomaen responded sleepily.

“But you were never dirty. I could see your light the moment I saw you. Your heart and your soul were pure and good. You were pure and good. You still are.”

Melpomaen propped himself up on an elbow to look at his mate. “I love you, Glorfindel,” he whispered.

“And I love you, little one. Always.”

~~~*~~~  
Elrond and Erestor quietly opened the door, peeking in on their foster-son. The boy was fast asleep, a contented expression on his face.

“He looks peaceful,” Erestor whispered. “Do you think he…?”

Elrond shrugged and smiled. “I do not think I want to know, my love,” he whispered back. “There are some things it is better that fathers are unaware of.” He carefully shut the door behind them and led his mate to their bed. 

~the end


End file.
